Merry XXXmas
by wrestlefan4
Summary: Secret Santa for Thorsmaven. Bret Hart and Triple H--two sworn enemies--attempt to make a special Christmas gift for Shawn.


**Secret Santa request from xShawnsGuardianAngelNefx. This one is Bret/HHH and is for Thorsmaven. Rated M. I hope you enjoy it. :)**

Merry XXXmas

Hunter lay bare-chested on the bed, glaring dark brown hatred at the man next to him, who was clothed the same. The man returned the gaze, fiery hazel, and Hunter didn't know what it was that Shawn saw in them. _Shawn._ That was why Hunter had found himself in such a position as this, all because of that beautiful, entrancing, blond. There were too many men in the locker room who would do just about anything to please him, and two of them were laying semi-nude on the bed wondering how Shawn had taken such hold of them and if they really were going to go through with this ridiculous thing which he had requested.

It wasn't as if they didn't know how to start. It was sex, not rocket science, but the two men just happened to hate each other with deep boiling passions rivaled only by the belching cauldrons of hell itself. Hunter could run each and every detailed reason as to why he hated the man sprawled out, boredly twirling a strand of dark, curly hair around his finger, but at that rate they'd be there beyond Christmas because the list was long. That wouldn't do, seeing as how this was for Christmas anyway.

"Well?" Hunter grunted.

"What, you really think I'm gonna do this?"

"Yeah. You'll do it for Shawn. For that pretty little blond, his big, gorgeous blue eyes and the way he pouts…fuck. You know that's the only thing we have in common. We'd do just about anything for him."

"Maybe." The other replied.

Hunter squinted at him, hating him even more if it was possible.

"That's why I can't stand you."

"Fine. Fine!" Bret shouted. "Then bend over and let me fuck you and we'll be done!"

Hunter rolled off the bed and jabbed his finger at Bret, his lips and forehead curling up with angry lines.

"You're not putting anything in me!"

Bret laughed.

"Then this isn't going to work. You don't think I'm gonna be the bitch, do you?"

"Well, you _are_ a bitch so I don't see a problem." Hunter growled, to which Bret lunged at him. His hand slapped against Hunter's cheek so quickly Hunter had no time to block it. The sound was loud as a gunshot in the room, and Hunter was effectively stunned. He raised his hand to his burning cheek and touched it in disbelief.

"Get over there." Bret grabbed Hunter in a headlock and dragged him to the bed, where he dumped him. Bret grabbed Hunters belt and swiftly unlatched it and pulled it through the loops.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Hunter shouted, and shoved Bret off of him.

The dark haired man smirked pompously and wrapped one end of the belt around his fist. He cocked his wrist and let the belt fly, ready to hear the snap of it against Hunters' jean clad ass. Hunter whirled quickly and the belt slapped against his forearm and curled around it like a leather boa constrictor squeezing its prey. His fingers wrapped around the leather band and he jerked it, pitching Bret forward and pulling him close. Both men were glaring daggers at each other, nose-to-nose, as though they were in the ring carrying on a heated rivalry.

"Get something through your head, Hart." Hunter snipped, his voice rough and harsh like the bark of an agitated wolf. "_I _am in charge of this."

"Says who!" Bret protested, his honey eyes flashing.

Hunter answered him by biting his lip between his teeth and drawing blood. Bret jerked away, leaving the belt behind, and now belonging to Hunters heavy fist. Bret drew his hand across his lips and painted his hand crimson, and when he looked back up, ready to spew a mouthful of curses at that damned blond kid—the tail of the belt snapped across his face, sending him stumbling backwards. His mouth flopped open, stolen of any words it was going to speak before, as he worked his jaw in surprise and pain. The belt snapped again, this time across his bare chest.

"Get over there!" Hunter barked, pointing to the bed.

"Fuck you!"

Hunter grabbed Bret and the two of them tussled, snarling. Bret managed to get Hunter back on the bed. He wrapped his fingers in the long, blond, hair and stuffed Hunters face into a pillow as he writhed beneath him, trying to dislodge him. His other hand was trying to get Hunter's jeans down, the task made harder that he could only use one hand to disrobe the blond. His nails raked against Hunter's flesh as fingers scrabbled with the jean material, finally getting it low enough that he could see the rounded tops of Hunter's cheeks. Despite being nearly suffocated into a pillow and torn apart against his own will—or maybe because of it—Hunter was starting to get hard. His length was twitching as the jean material whispered past it, and his wild bucking to attempt to unseat Bret was pushing it into the mattress. He could feel his ass, completely bare and Bret was laughing mischievously—arrogantly, and running his hand over the smooth globes.

"Not as pretty as Shawn's but it'll do." Bret commented, rudely and roughly intruding his finger into Hunter's unprepared body.

Hunter tried to say something, probably curse and yell at the man toying with him, but his threats and what-not were muffled into the pillow. He kept wiggling and writhing but it only made things worse, and really it was only serving to turn Bret on. He loved having the man he hated, whom he was sure was sneaking behind his back and plotting to steal away his Shawn at every turn, in such a position where he was completely helpless and under Bret's control. Hunter was now bent to his will, which was something The Hitman found extremely exciting.

He was going to make it bad for Hunter, no playing nice, no he was going to take all his frustrations out on this big-nosed idiot and make him sorry that he'd ever came around. Maybe he'd finally butt out, and leave Bret and Shawn well enough alone. Bret pulled his finger away and slapped his palm flat against Hunter's tender ass, grinning widely when the proud young man whimpered into the pillow. He jerked Hunter's hair, loving the sound as some of it tore between his fingers, and pulled Hunter's head to the side. The blond gasped, his face finally at least half-out of the pillow.

"Beg for me." Bret demanded.

"You're out of your fucking mind!" Hunter spat, trying once more to unseat Bret.

He got his arms under his body and pushed himself up despite Bret's doubled efforts at shoving his head back into the pillow. When Bret could see he was about to be de-throned, he took another course of action. He ripped his hands out of Hunter's golden mane, taking some long strands with him. He gripped Hunter's waist and before the blond could turn on him and flip him, he plunged in. Hunter howled out in pain, tears stinging at his eyes and leaking down his cheeks at the sudden invasion. His lips parted and an inhuman cry of rage filled the room as his arms trembled beneath him. He reared back, intent on bucking Bret off of him, but all that did was shove Bret deeper, and the older man groaned in pleasure.

Bret used the opportunity of Hunter's trembling arms—which seemed about to give out on him—to lean all of his weight forward and shove Hunter's head back into the pillow. His one hand stayed at the back of Hunter's skull, making sure his head was down, while the other bit nails into the flesh of Hunters back and trailed down leaving ragged marks as he started up with quick, hard, thrusts. The hand at Hunter's back made its way to his side, and chest, tearing skin and raking over a taut nipple, down his toned belly, to where his cock was throbbing despite the rage and hatred boiling through his veins. Bret wrapped his hand around the thick shaft and stroked it roughly, enjoying the fact that he was causing this little bastard pain.

Bret could feel his time coming quickly, his head titled to the side, eyes closed, with each bone-jarring thrust a grunt passed from his parted lips. Beneath him he could feel Hunter tensing, readying for his own peak and it pleased him to no end that he had the power to make this arrogant boy cum for him despite how much he knew Hunter despised him. The muffled threats and curses into the downy pillow had morphed into something more basic: moaning. Bret was sure that each needful sound that passed Hunter's lips just made him loathe himself, each twitch of his cock as Bret handled it harshly, the wetness that was leaking from the head, just had to anger Hunter to no end. Bret laughed darkly, readying for his own climax and feeling Hunter's near. Before he could fill Hunter with his hot release, he pulled out and gripped the base of Hunter's erection hard, preventing him from cumming at that moment. He flipped Hunter to his back.

"What--"

Hunter started, insane with anger, and need all at the same time. He wasn't allowed to say whatever it was he was going to though, because Bret sat on his chest, driving the air and words from his throat. Bret was panting, a darkness glimmering in his eyes, a kind of arrogance lighting them that was sure one day to be his damnation. He pumped his own cock a few times, driving himself over the edge, and his sticky release splattered all over Hunter's face as he gasped for breath.

"I'm the best there is." Bret panted, loving the way Hunter was furious, and wearing a mask of his seed. "The best there was, and the best there ever will be. Say it Hunter."

"Aarrrrg!" Was Hunter's bellowed reply.

With a yelp, Bret flew backwards and onto the floor, landing almost directly on the back of his head. Stars and bursts of color swam before his eyes and he was barely aware at first that Hunter was on top of him, his big curled fists raining blow after blow to his face and chest. He managed to fight back a little, and could feel his fists making contact with some part of Hunter's flesh, but he was too dazed from the fall on his head to fight back properly, and in the next moment he was on his stomach. Hunter found the discarded belt nearby, and reached back to grab it. He wound it tight around Bret's wrists and then pulled his ass up, forced his knees under him, his face planted into the carpet.

"Hunter I swear to God if you--"

Bret's words ended there, as Hunter slammed into him. Now it was Bret who had tears spilling down his cheeks. Hunter growled in approval, and pulled out, then slammed in again. It was like getting fucked by a jack hammer, and with each terrible, tremendous, push Bret's face scraped against the carpet, peeling skin against the rough weave. It was over quickly, and Hunter filled Bret, and what pissed Bret off the most was that he came a second time at the hands of that idiot.

"Un-fucking-tie me you prick!"

Bret screamed, as Hunter laughed and sauntered around the room, trying to hide the limp Bret had caused him, plucking his clothes from the floor. He got dressed slowly, casting a glance now and then to Bret who was red-faced and spitting curses and threats, fit to have an aneurism at any moment. Hunter finished dressing, managing to keep the pain from spelling out on his face when he bent to tie his shoes. Then, he untangled the belt around Bret's wrists. The Hitman got to his feet and flew at Hunter, landing a stiff punch against his jaw.

"If you EVER touch me again!" Bret snarled.

"Ha. Believe me, I won't." Hunter snorted.

He went to the tripod that was set up, and switched it off as Bret got dressed. He was pulling his shirt on over his head, still mumbling curses when Hunter approached him with the tape in his hand.

"Look Bret. I just have one final thing to say to you, now that the camera's off."

"Shut up." Bret growled.

"No, listen to me you almighty bastard, and listen closely. Shawn won't be in your arms forever. One day he'll see you for what you really are, and when that day comes, he'll screw you over so fast you won't know what hit you. When that day comes, I'll still be here and he'll come to my arms, and I'll show him how a real man treats his lover."

"You're full of shit." Bret hissed. "Shawn would never screw me over. You're just a hopeful little boy with your big nose stuck in the clouds of fantasy." Bret grabbed the tape from Hunter. "Let's go so I can be rid of you, degenerate."

The two of them left the hotel room, and made a silent trek to the first floor. Hunter knocked at the door, and both men growled when Kevin answered. Kevin quickly told them that Shawn was in the lobby, and slammed the door shut. The two of them went there then, and found Shawn and Owen chatting on the couch. Owen's eyes went wide when he looked up from the conversation and got a look at both Bret and Hunter: hair disheveled, faces bruised, Hunter's jaw swollen, Bret's lip busted, his face scraped up with rug burns. Owen ducked his face into his hand. Shawn realized something was going on, and turned, for the first time seeing those two. He stood up and looked them both over in confusion.

"Here." Bret thrust the tape into Shawn's chest and the blond took it and looked it over, still confused. The scribbled letters in Hunter's handwriting on the white label read 'Merry XXXmas' with both their names written underneath. Shawn peered at both men's faces again, a slow and unwanted realization dawning on him. His face began to drain of color.

"Y-you…and…you—you mean both of you—on this? TOGETHER!"

"Yeah Shawn. Don't talk so loud." Hunter warned, attempting to hush him.

It didn't work so well. To the shock of both men, Shawn burst into a fit of giggles. The blond doubled over at the middle, tears pouring over his pretty face. Owen had his face buried into a throw pillow. Bret looked at Hunter, and Hunter looked at Bret, and then they both looked at Shawn again completely flummoxed at his behavior.

"Well fuck Shawn!" Bret finally shouted. "Isn't that what you wanted for Christmas!"

Shawn managed to straighten up, hiccupping uncontrollably with laughter. His trembling hands wiped at his dripping eyes.

"Ha—you—are you serious?" He dissolved again into giggles and finally after an intense battle was able to calm himself enough to speak, or to at least stutter. "I can't believe…wow. I can't believe you guys took me seriously! I WAS JOKING! You mean to tell me, as much as you two hate each other…you for real…did _that_!"

Bret and Hunter both narrowed their eyes at Shawn. He was joking? He was joking. Neither man could believe what they'd just gone through only to find out Shawn wasn't serious about the whole thing. Hunter stomped across the lobby, ignoring the pain in his ass, and dragged a big black trash can over to where Bret was standing, the look on his face almost funny as he watched Shawn now curled up on the floor with his laughter. Hunter nodded at Bret, and Bret scooped Shawn into his arms, and then dumped him and the tape into the garbage can. Shawn just kept howling with laughter, the cuffs of his jeans and his boots poking out over the rim of the trash can. Bret and Hunter stalked off, leaving him there, each heading back to their individual rooms. That was the last time Shawn ever got a Christmas gift from either one of them.


End file.
